Aleksandr ChurilovCommunity profile

For me, being a chef is not about making money. It's about something deeper, something internal. I can confidently say that I am a happy person, surrounded by all the things I love: food, creativity, grateful and happy people, my beloved wife, and three wonderful daughters.

I grew up in a village. My father was a city dweller, but he always longed to be closer to nature and animals, so he chose a profession that reflected his love for the simple life – he became a livestock farmer. My mother took care of the household.

As a child, I rarely went to kindergarten, so I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mother. I watched her with fascination, helping her whenever I could. By the age of 7, I knew almost everything about cooking and could easily take over at the stove. In fact, I considered myself an expert and would often give advice: "Grandpa, you're doing it wrong! You have to stuff the pancakes like this!" I continued to develop my skills, experimenting (sometimes with disastrous results), rereading my mother's recipes, and reading any cookbooks I could get my hands on.

Years passed. In my youthful mind, I considered myself a master of simple dishes, pies, sponge cakes, and jellies. Even then, I realized that without a solid foundation or theoretical knowledge, it was difficult to develop effectively in this field, simply relying on my mother's experience or intuition. I went to a technical college, and then to a university, majoring in "Public Catering Engineering," where I gained the necessary knowledge: calculations, food safety regulations, coefficients, and much more. At first, it might seem unnecessary, as it doesn't directly relate to creativity, but it's incredibly helpful for professionals in my field. I was fascinated by everything, from the physical and chemical processes that occur when ingredients are combined or exposed to heat, to the equipment itself. It wasn't always easy.

After graduating from university, the resort town of Belokurikha seemed like an interesting and promising place to start my career. I was very lucky with my first job, as it was there, and thanks to my mentor, that I developed a deep understanding of how to treat ingredients and the kitchen as a whole. After a year, I realized that I needed further development and moved to Novosibirsk. That's when a new chapter began in my life, filled with creativity, interesting events, and inspiring people. My first stop in the Siberian capital was the "Kino-kafe" restaurant, located in the "Pobeda" cinema. My father helped me get that job. His boss knew one of the well-known Novosibirsk chefs, Ruslan Korobov, who is now the owner of the "Korobok" restaurant. — There's a young man there who wants to come. — Let him come! Things were simpler back then; we made arrangements without mentioning titles or status. We gave many people a chance, but not everyone took advantage of it. I stayed there for 9 years. The team was young and energetic, and we were all "tested" in different roles. It was at "Pobeda" that I first experienced the role of a chef. Throughout my time there, I never stopped learning, striving to understand all the nuances of cooking, experimenting with different techniques, and studying various technologies. The key was that these aspirations were encouraged. We were like a big family, and we still maintain close relationships. Vera Alievna, one of the owners of the business at the time, added a special touch to my professional life. Her experience, her way of communicating, and her ability to convey information in an engaging way were emotionally enriching, motivating, and inspiring. She is a truly remarkable person. I left "Pobeda" without a plan, simply because I was tired. I think that at some point in their lives, everyone feels the need to change their priorities, and in my case, it was about family. At that time, I was happily married with two adorable daughters. It was then that I had another realization: people in our profession are not able to stay in a relaxed state for long; they can't give up the constant "rush," that adrenaline rush. I quickly accepted a job offer to become the chef of one of the new restaurants, specifically to launch its operations. I successfully completed the task, and I was immediately invited to head the kitchen of a popular Novosibirsk restaurant located in the city center – Park Cafe. It would have been a mistake to refuse such an offer. Everything was aligned with my values: I'm not a fan of commercial ventures, and this place was unique, its concept and idea perfectly matched my desires. The workload was proportional to the interest: it was both incredibly challenging and exhilarating. The routine was broken up by various training sessions, tasting trips, and other events, both within the country and abroad. One of the most memorable experiences was an internship in France, in the city of Montpellier, which was a huge leap in terms of my personal development and inspired me with new ideas. The trip was rich in knowledge and impressions. Years later, the restaurant changed its direction to increase traffic, losing its individuality, and along with it, its chef – me. Now, at work, I feel like I'm home. "Na Dache" is about soul, emotional intelligence, confidence, and growth. It's about love... for the homeland, nature, its beauty, and its richness. Here, creativity flourishes alongside new challenges and a pleasant atmosphere. There are no silly ambitions or pretentiousness. "Na Dache" is a force. In the two years that our team has been together, we have made significant and successful changes, and the restaurant has been growing at a rapid pace in all areas. We don't need to compare ourselves to the local gastronomic upstarts – they're all about social media photos; we're about eating beautifully, calmly, and deliciously. My reward is the gratitude and smiles of my guests. If you ask me what I see myself doing in 5 years, I can't say for sure. But I know one thing: I'll have a beard, and I'll be cooking.